Nobody Drinks Alone
by TomsBabe136
Summary: A sob caught in her throat and she fought it, hard. He had beaten her. Yes, again.


**Nobody Drinks Alone**

**Summary: **A sob caught in her throat and she fought it, hard. He had beaten her. Yes, again.

**Disclaimer: **Oops I remembered I forgot to put it in my story Angel so here it is as well as this one: I do not own anything! Well of course I own SOMETHING but not this story...uh yeah... happy reading .

**Rated for language and violence.**

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'Bang, bang.' The wild rain clashed against the walls of the feeble trailer. Streetlights flickered on and off making the small street swallow into the darkness. The frantic wind swirled around fiercely making the trees dance along. Alone in her room lay Pansy. Pansy sat numbly against the stone wall of her dark, cold room. The walls were a dull grey and the floor was a cloudy blue, though you couldn't see the blue from the dust and stains. Darkness engulfed the room. Banging her weak back against the wall, she quivered. Not caring about the sharp pains that sprinkled along her back she continued. After all she had suffered much worse and was a victim of pain almost everyday. Fiery brunette hair fell onto her shaking shoulders and strands covered her mysterious, dark brown eyes. Her frail arms wrapped tightly around her legs. The taste of blood and tears mixed together. Another thing she was used to, though this time it tasted even more bitter. 

A sob caught in her throat and she fought it, hard. He had beaten her. Yes, again. In her 14 years of knowing him, he had beaten her, bruising her body and soul. A broken soul, that is what she is. How could that man call himself her father? That's what she would like to know. As a young girl Pansy wished her father would stop drinking, that was the cause of his anger. He let all his frustration out on her and her mother. It was a disease he could not stop. After her mother died 6 years ago, he had only gotten worse. All the pain and sadness he kept trapped away was let out on her. 'Mother,' Pansy thought, 'Why did my mother leave? Do I deserve this?' The fragile girl could not contain her tears any longer; they fell from her eyes like the rain falling from the sky.

"Pansy!" Her father's voice boomed loudly throughout the house and bounced off the walls, "Don't you dare be crying girl! I have taught you better. Stop that weak whimpering or I will come down there and beat it out of you. I guess you haven't learned a lesson from the last!" His blaring voice drowned out and his footsteps fell away from the door quietly.

Pansy let out a long shaky sigh of relief. She hated living here. She hated him. Her own father. Occasionally he wouldn't be drunk. He would hug and kiss her and apologize. But she could never bear to look him in the eye. She just wished he would be that caring father he could be when he is sober. Since her mother passed away, he rarely had a sober day. With trembling hands she rose to her feet slowly. Her knees and legs, still weak, swayed slightly at the weight of her body. Walking to the mirror gradually she gazed at the girl staring back at her. Pansy didn't recognize her. Large and small bruises were forming quickly on her face, her dirty clothes drowned her body, her father's huge hand prints were marked on her petite arms and legs and the gory cuts on her face would definitely scar.

Pansy lay on her gritty, decayed bedspread. She wanted so badly to get out of this house. Away from him. Away from the anger and alcohol. Yes, he may have his good moments, but his wicked moments were mostly all of the time. This was not how a 14-year-old should be living. She should be learning how to put on make-up, talking about boys, going to Hogwarts, being with friends. Not get beaten up. Her mother, God rest her, was a lovely woman but she didn't and wouldn't leave him. Pansy never understood why or why she loved him, he was horrible to her. She knew her mother was not treated how she should have been. He took advantage of her. He cheated on her countless times and she knew it; yet she stayed. He beat her until she was lying on the floor bloody and unconscious, yet she still stayed. How Pansy wished her mother had left him, then Pansy would not be stuck with him living this tortured life.

Walking slowly to the door, she opened it just a little and peeked out the door. It was quiet, a little too quiet. Stepping outside of her room she looked around cautiously. 'Where is he?' Pansy asked herself. A loud crash made Pansy jump a foot in the air. Grumbling and grunting was heard from around the corner. Carefully walking around the corner she saw her father searching ferociously through the liquor cabinet.

"Where is the damn beer?" He slammed the cabinet door with such force, Pansy was surprised it didn't fall off it's hinges.

"Creek," Pansy stepped on a loose piece of wood. She froze immediately. Her father's neck snapped around to face her.

"What are you doing in here?" he sneered at her. His gray hair stood out on his head, but patches of dirty blond could still be seen. Once, he may have been handsome, but now age had taken its toll and the man had reached middle-age. His face was no longer the youthful one it had once been. Wrinkles stood out on his forehead, and lined his cheekbones. He had an odd look on his face and in his hazel eyes, as if not really here or there. As if he were living in the past. A past that held not the sorrow and uncertainty that the present held.

"What have I told you about leaving your room without asking?" he asked, with the merest suggestion of a slur. Pansy could tell just by this that he'd been drinking again.

"That I need your permission," Pansy mumbled, not daring to look him in the eye.

"And did you?"

"No."

"Get the hell in here."

Pansy flinched. It was coming.

She kept her eyes carefully averted from her father, studying the ground as she walked slowly, as to the tune of a funeral march. She could feel her father following her murderously, eyes burning a hole into her back. He reached forward and grabbed her upper arm tightly, almost crushing her weak arm.

"Daddy please..." Pansy spoke gently her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes pleading with him. No, he wouldn't let her go but she always had the little bit of hope.

"Daddy please!" her father mocked with a smile that looked more like a sneer as Dimitrius, her father, grabbed Pansy's other arm in a vice-like grip. She winced. He took Pansy into another room and the beating began.

Pansy held back her cries, used to this routine by now as she tasted blood in her mouth from biting her tongue so hard. But she could not help the salty tears that dripped unbidden from her eyes as she wished for it to end, and for a better life as the belt hit home again and again. For someone who truly would care about her, and treat her as all people should be treated. Closing her eyes tightly she prayed, over and over again.

'Please Lord, please make it stop... I am begging you. Please... '

With one final whip of his belt Dimitrius kicked his daughter powerfully, knocking the wind out of her. Pansy clutched her stomach struggling to take a breath.

"Next time, don't you **dare **disobey me young lady," With those final words Dimitrius slammed the door behind him. As soon as the door shut behind him, Pansy let the tears fall. She cried for her mother. She cried for her father, believe it or not. But she cried mostly for herself, for the life she was living.

"Please Lord, make the pain stop," she cried out softly burying her head in her arms and cradling her broken body. Rising to her feet she slowly lay down on her bed. Looking to her side was a picture of her mother. No she wasn't smiling but it was a beautiful picture. Pansy took the picture into her shaking hands and sobbed staring at her mother.

"Why did you have to leave me mum?" she said her voice husky from crying. Cradling the picture tightly against her chest Pansy proceeded to cry. Burying her face in the pillow she cried herself to sleep for what she didn't know would be the last time.

Dimitrius paced back and fourth in the cluttered kitchen. He had done it again. He beat up his daughter. His baby girl. Running his hands through his hair Dimitrius sighed and shook his head. Many thoughts whirled through his mind. 'Why can't I fight the alcohol?', 'Why do I keep doing this?', 'How can I stop this?', 'What's wrong with me?', 'I need help.' But the thought he listened to, 'Get more alcohol.' Of course. Walking to the cabinet he grabbed the first thing his hand touched, vodka. Opening the glass bottle cap he drowned the bottle of vodka easily. Taking a deep breath he stood against the wall.

"I need to stop this. Not just for Pansy but for myself." Dimitrius' eyes felt heavy, "Tomorrow. I'll get help tomorrow. I'll do this ---"

A sharp pain made Dimitrius drop the glass bottle and clutch his chest. The bottle smashed to the floor, the glass scattered throughout the kitchen. Falling down the wall slowly Dimitrius winced at the pain he felt. Trying to yell out to his daughter he groaned and fell down onto the floor, pieces of glass slowly making there way into his skin. Breathing had become more difficult and the pain seemed more immense. Never had he felt pain like this. He was paying for what he had done to his wife, his daughter and to himself. Drinking made all his memories and ghosts haunt him, he hadn't realized that until now.

With one final breath he whispered painfully, "I'm sorry." With that, he slumped against the wall, his life leaving his body, and rid his daughter of the hurt and anguish he had caused. Never again would he hurt her.

Yawning, Pansy stretched and rose slowly. As soon as she sat up fully the pain flooded through her body. She winced and massaged her upper arm gently. Placing her feet on the carpet she walked through the door. Once again it was quiet. But this time it didn't feel right. Looking around the corner towards the kitchen her eyes widened like saucers and a scream escaped from her mouth. There he was, her father. Dead. Never had she seen such a horrible sight. Running to him was her first instinct and she placed his cold face in her hands. A tear made its way down her cheek for a reason she didn't know. He had made her life miserable but he was still her father. Rushing up to the phone she dialed 911.

"Emergency, I found my dad in the kitchen. He's...he's dead..." Pansy gave the information the woman had asked her for and hung up, but she kept her hand firmly planted on the phone and stared at the yellow wall in front of her. She didn't have any parents. She was an orphan. Having no parents was better than having to live with her father and living the everyday torture. Leaning forward she placed her forehead on the wall and closed her eyes. This was what she had wanted, him gone out of her life. She was rid of the pain, her father he may have been but what a relief it was to have him out her life.

It had been a few days after Pansy's fathers funeral. Not a tear was shed from her. Not even after seeing his grey, lifeless face. The memory would remain with her as it was a frightening sight but she didn't think about that at the moment. Her tears were gone. There wasn't a reason to cry now. Now, Pansy lifted the last box of her stuff and carried it out to the door.

"That's the last one Aunt Alexandria," she breathed a small grin on her face, the first in a long time.

"Thank goodness child. I never knew you had so many things," her Aunt teased picking up the last box and placing it in the car.

Pansy stepped back inside the house and looked around. She was leaving. Leaving all the memories and the ghosts that would haunt her. Never would she have to face the pain she endured in her 14 years. Now, she could be a normal teenager, living the life she wanted free from suffering. Pansy nodded her head and grinned, this was it, the last time she would ever have to step inside this house. The last time she would ever have to think about her past life. Memories would still haunt her from time to time and she would think about them in the years to come but right now she wouldn't. Right now she was going to be happy for the first time in years and she could hardly wait.

"Ready honey?" her Aunt grinned, knowing this was the best thing for her niece.

Pansy smiled and nodded her head vigorously. Stepping into the car and making sure her seatbelt was fastened she took one last glance at the house. A life she once thought would never end. Waving goodbye to her past Pansy didn't know what she would face in her present or her future, but she couldn't wait to find out.

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**Please Read**

**Author's Note: This story was written yesterday for my English assignment. Very angst, something I'm not used to but I hope I wrote it well. The original girl's name was Nevaeh and her father Martin so if there names may still be in there I apologize (the names are nothing like the ones I have based this story on, it is far more complicated than in the story). I wanted to post this on here so I changed it to Pansy. It was a difficult story to write as it is based on true events that have happened, not to me but to someone very close to me. It was very hard to write Pansy's name, she is my favourite character and it hurt having to make her the one that is suffering but in the end she isn't suffering anymore. Also, it's written as she didn't go to Hogwarts ad Pansy and her father are not rich. I know I didn't mention anything about it (there was a car but it is not muggle in this story anyway and her Aunt Alexandria is a made up character) or anything else to do with magic so please don't review saying anything like that. Also I would appreciate no flames. This story was extremely hard to write. Anyway I hope you enjoyed and please review .**

**Take Care**

**Lisa-Marie **


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